


don’t ever set me aside (with the things you don’t need)

by rainsoakedcoat



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Canon-Typical Behavior, Canon-Typical Violence, Internalized Homophobia, Lowercase, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Stream of Consciousness, Substance Abuse, Themes of Religion, Unhealthy Relationships, high school up to nearly present, post-season 12!au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:41:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28257084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainsoakedcoat/pseuds/rainsoakedcoat
Summary: mac will follow dennis into hell if he is asked.missing scenes all the way from high school/pre-canon, to post-season 12, following mac & dennis' trajectory as a deeply unhealthy couple.
Relationships: Mac McDonald/Dennis Reynolds
Comments: 4
Kudos: 14





	don’t ever set me aside (with the things you don’t need)

**Author's Note:**

> head to the end notes for trigger warnings!
> 
> title comes from “please don’t change your mind” by Lizzie No, a song that I want to literally tattoo the way she sings the lyric onto my skin—I imagine only the healthiest of relationships with that song, but this lyric struck me as too spot-on not to use for this fic. 
> 
> this became much darker than I had originally intended & realized, but this is an alternate universe that details dennis & mac as a psychologically tortured couple. I started this a while back & finally have finished it with an ending that leaves me satisfied!
> 
> follows canon very dedicatedly, these are missing scenes (if ‘sunny’ was closer to a psychological horror show)

dennis reynolds is pressing a palm to his eye, griping about some girl refusing to sleep with him. mac macdonald’s not really listening, but dennis probably doesn’t care either way. mac’s mainly focusing on the fact that dennis is spending time with him without needing weed. they’ve never done this before; it’s always been hanging out together behind the bleachers with charlie, passing around a joint. and they don’t talk about much except the parties charlie & mac are not invited to and the chicks dennis makes out with at those parties. charlie usually makes the two of them laugh with his infectious energy, and then when that burns out, mac & dennis poke fun at him. when it burns up, dennis leaves ahead of the two of them, leaving them with the roach. he doesn’t look back. mac and charlie leave together, whispering their inside jokes.

it'd been a few months since their arrangement had started, when mac began feeling itchy and hot. it had taken a lot of failed attempts and talking himself up in the mirror for mac to take the plunge. he had been feeling particularly bold when he asked dennis if he wanted to come over friday night, and the fact that dennis said yes totally confirmed that they were friends; that this wasn’t just a dealer-and-dealee kind of relationship. it was funny, then, because when they all smoked together that wednesday afternoon, dennis didn’t mention mac and his’ plans.

friday night had come quick, and mac let charlie know they wouldn’t be hanging in the basement that night. of course, charlie was peeved, but it wasn’t like he’d leave mac over one raincheck. they always came back together—it was just the two of them against philly. against the world. and maybe dennis too now, the three of them a budding idea in mac’s mind. dennis would probably be good for them, especially since he was popular. he could put in a good word for ronnie the rat and his roachslayer sidekick; maybe then they’d get invited to parties. maybe then ‘ronnie the rat’ as a title would lose its charm and he’d be mac again. mac knew it’d happen soon enough, no matter what. over the years, mac’s learned that as long as he’s got constants, that’s all that matters. charlie, hairgel, cigarettes, and his badass fighting skills kept him safe. maybe he could add dennis to the list.

▪▪▪

mac’s breath is caught in his throat—dennis has got these long ass fingers, fingers that can roll blunts fast and tight, and he’s got a mop of messy curls that he has to brush out of his eyes sometimes, like how he’s doing now, with these deep blue eyes—and suddenly, he’s getting up, and he’s pacing.

dennis had rang the doorbell, mac sprinting down the steps. “i got it!” he shouted, his mom grunting in response. mac skirts to a stop, breathes out, and smooths his hands across his gelled hair. he pulls the door open with one hand, a wide, easy smile on his face.

there’s an angry teenager on the other side of the doorway. dennis is pissed, but when is he not? he’s got _that_ look on his face, the one he has when he doesn’t get what he wants. dennis sniffs in disdain and steps through the doorframe, mac’s goofy smile nearly blinding. mac’s not scared of dennis, he has never had a reason to be; he’s just a boy, after all.

dennis is sulking, tuning out mac’s rambling about his day. mac doesn’t mind, he’s happy to chatter away if it means it’ll take dennis’ mind off what’s bothering him. mac leads them upstairs, dennis pouting the entire way. dennis eyes the cross above mac’s bed with open disdain. “you never told me you were a jesus freak,” dennis scoffs, cutting off whatever narrative mac had begun to explore.

mac flushes, responding, “oh come on man, God’s great! He’s gotten me through, like, a shit ton of stuff!” whether dennis is either merciful or selfish is unclear, but he lets mac be.

he takes a seat on the edge of mac’s unmade bed and starts complaining about how some chick wouldn’t say yes to going on a date with him next weekend. mac’s too busy tidying up things around his room, flitting around. it feels natural to have dennis in his space, in his room, surrounded by his movie posters and his weights and his other memorabilia. mac hasn’t had anyone other than charlie over since they were in middle school, so it’s super cool that dennis really is just _here_ with him on a friday night.

mac’s sure dennis could be at a party or with some of the seniors if he wanted, but he’s here instead, with mac. eventually, mac’s done, satisfied with his tidying, and he leans up against the wall by his door, crossing his arms, looking badass as usual. dennis is tired now, and he’s sat back down, laid out on mac’s bed, finished pacing. mac’s trying not to show his excitement that dennis reynolds is comfortable in ronnie the rat’s bed. dennis lets out a sigh, his rant over, deflated, and quietly says, “you know, sometimes i wish people would realize how amazing i am.”

if it were anyone else, mac would have laughed at how dumb that sentence sounded, but because it’s dennis, and because dennis likes to be around mac, and laughs at his jokes, and buys his weed, mac confesses, “i think you’re pretty awesome, dennis,” and smiles gently at his friend. he knows this is important, because it’s dennis, and dennis makes him feel strong. dennis looks at him then, as if he were just seeing him for the first time tonight, and maybe he is, because he was so caught up in that random chick that he wasn’t really having a good time before.

dennis sits up, his face gone serious. mac is not scared, per se, but he is definitely ready to punch dennis if he’s about to throw one of his temper tantrums. (mac’s only had to see one of them to know that dennis could kill someone with that kind of rage). instead, dennis sees straight through him and asks softly, “mac, have you ever kissed a girl?”

suddenly mac’s hackles raise, because that kind of question is not something he wants to answer in front of someone as beautiful and cruel as dennis reynolds. he cannot have dennis blackmail him with this sort of information, and he cannot risk his badass image by admitting the truth. mac’s stunned silence is enough of an answer, though, and mac’s trying not to panic, but he’s starting to panic anyway, and he can feel the fury mirrored, mac can feel it start to build in him that he gave himself away so easily, without even saying a word—

now dennis has got his hands on mac’s shoulders. dennis is looking him in the eyes, and mac can feel the heat from dennis’s long ass fingers on his skin. he’s burning at the contact, and the pressure from dennis’s hands is making mac go loose. he’s not sure which eye to look at, because he’s not great at eye contact, and right then, his anger has evaporated into thin air. he should be concerned, that dennis is so close, but he’s so soft right here?

mac’s never been this close to another man before, much less anyone. his heart is beating so fast, and he parts his lips to ask what’s happening, but his breath is caught when he takes notice of dennis’s eyes, concentrated on mac’s lips. his eyes look soft. time is syrupy slow, and mac considers sin for a split second, and then someone leans in and connects their lips. mac’s eyes shut, and he can think of nothing else other than _he’s kissing someone, he’s having his first kiss, and it’s easy and it’s badass because it’s dennis,_ and suddenly dennis is kissing him open-mouthed, hands moving away from mac’s skin, and mac’s meeting him there for each kiss, and mac realizes maybe he should do something with his hands, as dennis’s now got his hands pressed against the wall on either side of mac’s head, so mac puts his hands on dennis’s waist clumsily, and he can feel the strength and grace of dennis’s obliques and mac is flushing so hot from everything that’s happening, all of it almost too much, but now that he’s gotten a taste of what it means to kiss dennis, he knows he will do it again, for as long as dennis is willing. after what feels like forever, they break apart, and mac’s heart feels like it’s going to burst from his ribcage. he’s hot all over and his jeans are too tight.

mac’s lips feel swollen and he can tell dennis is just as starstruck as mac is, eyes glazed over and breathing labored. he’s got red red lips and a bad attitude, and mac realizes that he will follow this man into hell if only he were asked.

mac’s hungry for him suddenly, and he’s pressing his mouth to dennis’s. he can feel dennis smiling with all his teeth, pressing palms to mac’s face, pulling him close. he’s walking them backward, and mac crowds dennis’s space until he’s in a push-up position over dennis, laying on his own bed, with him. they’re both breathing loud, and mac can taste the bubblegum scent of dennis’s skin. mac presses kisses to his jaw, and dennis is keening. his fingers are scrabbling for a place on mac’s back, and he rucks mac’s shirt up, demanding, “pop that shirt off i swear to god, mac, or i will kick you in your face!”

mac’s half-listening at this point, pulling off his shirt in order to satisfy whatever needs dennis is expressing. at some point, dennis gets shirtless too, and their chests pressed against each other feels like sparks. they fall asleep side by side in mac’s rumpled sheets, pink-cheeked and full of youth, pressing drowsy kisses to skin.

a few days later, dennis still hasn’t returned mac’s call. that’s okay; mac tells himself it’s because dennis has been busy. he’s been too busy to smoke with charlie and him, at least, which is fine. more weed for them. charlie asked about dennis, but mac brushed off the question easily. charlie didn’t mind anyway. it was nice to get mac’s company back. and he didn’t notice the red in mac’s face when he mentioned dennis.

it’s not for a few weeks that dennis comes back, and only out of desperation. mac had gotten this dopeass idea to threaten all the other dealers around their area (at least all the other highschooler dealers), so that the only dealer available was mac. he’s got enough weed to survive for months, and dennis needs it, so he comes to get it. charlieandmac, with dennis tagged along, becomes the new status quo.

the summer after sophomore year is spent with dennis and mac making out in mac’s dark bedroom, and then making corner store runs or smashing rats with charlie—mac smashing rats with charlie, and dennis making stupid comments. dennis always vanishes when mac gets up to make breakfast.

junior year is stolen glances and shotgunning. mac swears he is going to explode from the buildup of tension.

summer after is lots of messy handjobs under the bridge.

senior year is applications for dennis and sweet dee, and suddenly dennis doesn’t have enough time for mac. charlie and mac smoke up. dennis sees them once in a while.

graduation spawns moving out, employment, and lots of killing time. not in that order.

▪▪▪

it’s now 2005, and dennis and mac survived college apart, with small late-night visits and lots of hushed phone calls. dennis and dee had decided to invest in a bar to make use of their half-baked degrees. to maximize their audience, they make the executive decision to go gay for pay. everything goes swimmingly. they have security, service, music, customers, money. they’ve got it all. strobe lights included.

dennis and dee run as the bartenders, because only they are deserving to be the face of the bar, and mac is the bouncer, so he gets to ‘escort’ rowdy patrons out. charlie’s the janitor, and it works. charlie drinks his pay at night, and mac gets to show off his muscles. dee sneaks him drinks on the job, and dennis is none the wiser.

it had been perfect timing; mac and charlie had just lost their respective jobs for stupid reasons like ‘attendance’ and ‘drinking on the job.’ but finally, their weaknesses were being utilized as strengths. plus, they were cool with dee. she might’ve been the tin man in high school, and while she basically looks and sounds like a bird now, she’s chill.

it’s dennis that mac is on icy terms with, now. dee had approached him, not both of the twins. the last time mac and dennis had spoken was a 2am phone call about dennis’s new girlfriend, jessica, so they didn’t talk anymore.

mac had decided to double his workouts and dedicated himself to getting buff to deal with the dennis-shaped hole in his life. flashforward six months later, the twins have graduated and dee is offering mac a job at the gay bar that her and her brother had just started. mac would be stupid not to take the gig, so he does. plus, charlie and him can hang out every day, and get paid for it? it’s perfect.

it’s a friday night, and dennis is getting handsy for extra tips. he’s newly single, and is embracing his freedom. mac knows what’s happening, but he swallows his pride anyway and pretends it isn’t killing him inside. mac’s basically his own boss, since they’re all partners in this, but.

dee’s plan that involves getting dennis blackout drunk is easy, and it’s soft dennis again, alive in this moment, so far from high school. he’s sucking salt off his hand, and shooting tequila in the name of trying to teach mac something. it’d be endearing if it weren’t so sexy. mac’s loose for the first time in a long time. it’s fucking fantastic, he’s high off it. he’s missed it for so long he didn’t know it’s what he needed. mac wishes he could take dennis home and tuck him in.

the night ends with dennis getting picked up by some of his friends, and mac watches as they carry his lithe, protesting body out of the empty bar. dee watches from behind the counter, wiping down a glass. she laughs to herself, and winks at mac.

▪▪▪

it’s 2006, and mac and dennis know that whatever they have is not something to advertise, it’s something to keep to themselves and away from the harsh of philly. they live together now, and sometimes they sleep in the same bed. sometimes they kiss, late at night, when they’re drunk fumbling in the dark, but nothing comes close to the sweetness and heat of the nights when they were full of naivety. when dennis wasn’t fasting and mac wasn’t denying his sins and drinking too much. dennis tells him he hates him sometimes, in front of the gang, and when they get home and mac is hammered because he hurts and he fucking wants to rip dennis’s adam’s apple out, dennis will kiss his mouth, grope his dick through his jeans, and try to make it better.

he knows the right buttons to push when it comes to mac, never fails to make him feel special for a few choice seconds. mac hates it so much that dennis can do this to him, that dennis knows him the way he does. it always plays out the same way: mac’s sin will come right back up his throat, and he’ll run to the bathroom, and yet, _and yet_ , he burns alive whether or not dennis presses his lips to mac’s mouth. mac always ends these nights with a prayer that things will change one day. the prayers keep coming.

dennis always watches from the doorframe. moonlight seeps through and pales his skin further, so he looks even more deadly, and mac squeezes his eyes shut and he tells himself he will survive dennis. he tells himself he will make it out alive.

▪▪▪

it’s 2007, and mac knows what it’s like to bang dennis, basically, since he banged dennis and dee’s mom. dennis had wanted to slit mac’s throat, purple with rage at the thought of his disgusting roommate and his mother, the treasure she was, having sex. eventually he had cooled down enough that he just wanted to make mac hurt as a consequence, rather than killing him cold.

dennis had his hand pressed against mac’s throat, pinning him against the wall after everyone went home and the love quadrilateral had been sorted out. mac can feel dennis’ angry breath on his cheek as dennis huffs and holds his body solid against mac’s, his body heat transferring easily from muscle to muscle. dennis’ lean body and high cheekbones remind mac that because dennis is physically feminine, it’s a little less sinful that mac’s hard. he’s woozy off the heat, off the choke. he doesn’t want dennis to see though, because it will make dennis squeeze harder, and mac can feel bile rising in his throat—he’s burning up from the inside out, and he can feel his face get redder and the stars start to buzz in his vision, the edges starting to fade, his breath caught in his ribs, the air squeezing bit by torturous bit

but if he must die at the hand of a god he is happy it is the golden god. the black dots start coming in and mac will choke on his own vomit if dennis decides to let go—

mac is sliding down the crackling paint of the apartment they bought together after dennis had graduated from upenn and jessica had left him and he needed someone to be with that didn’t judge him for his breakdowns. that would feed him food, and would meet his eyes and

mac gains his consciousness. he’s looking at dennis who he can’t stand to fucking look at, so mac stands, wobbly like a new doe. he punches dennis square in the jaw, and when dennis scratches the fuck out of mac’s face, mac can feel his skin slice open, blood sliding hot down his cheek. they’re both high on the anger and sweat and adrenaline and t and dennis sucks mac’s blood off his nails, mac’s ire palpable—but fuck, he’s never been so fucking turned on—they’re psychotic they’re psychotic and they’re sinners and mac wants to fucking rip his own guts out but you know what?

dennis is looking at him like no one has ever looked at him before, and mac knows he’d be fucking stupid to risk his passage to Heaven to do this queer ass shit with dennis, but he’s scrambling for dennis and pressing his mouth against his anyway. they’re frantic with it, and it sinks into mac’s sinews that they will never be able to leave each other for as long as they live, because now it’s the two of them against the motherfucking world mac decides, because charlie will forever be his blood brother, but charlie has long long long left him for frank, so if it’s dennisandmac instead of charlieandmac it doesn’t really fuckin matter anyway. dennis is the man who will suck mac’s blood off his fingers any fucking day he decides to. dennis is a god for fuck’s sake; if mac must worship a god he will worship both as long as he can until one kills him for his devotion to the other; he will be smote with a smile on his face.

they’re ripping clothes off of each other as fast as possible, and dennis decides that unzipping mac’s jeans while he still has his shirt on is just fucking quicker anyway. mac’s dick is out and in his hand and dennis is pressing his teeth to mac’s mouth, devouring him, and mac’s coming over dennis’ fingers. dennis presses harder, and mac gets the hint—he’s down on his knees, dennis looming over him, and dennis is sliding his palm up and down his dick, keeping a heavy hand on mac’s shoulder. white ropes of come land on mac’s cheeks, turning pink with the blood dripping from his skin. he tries to catch it all.

▪▪▪

it's 2017, and mac’s gay and dennis is walking out the door like the motherfucking coward he was when he was seventeen and not meeting mac’s eyes anymore. dennis can use his son as the excuse, but mac knows that dennis is leaving because of his big feelings and his incapacity to handle them. there’s no way that dennis will survive on his own; mandy won’t feed him or make him take his meds, and dennis won’t have someone telling him how beautiful he is at the end of the day, when the makeup, the padding, the work is all done away. there’s no way north dakotan women will subscribe to the d.e.n.n.i.s. system either. they’re too pure and buttoned-up for the system to be effective. dennis will slowly tear himself to shreds and there’s nothing anyone can do about it, because dennis is a stubborn jackass. it’ll ultimately be up to mac to put him back together again, and maybe then dennis will accept that he’s in love with his roommate, his best friend, _his life partner_.

mac’s tired, and so he lets him go.

mac’s tired.

they’ve only ever communicated effectively through touch, and now that mac’s interactions with dennis been reduced to a text once every three weeks, mac’s not really sure what to do with himself or how to respond to dennis anymore. they’ve never been apart for this long, except when dennis was living in the frat house, but mac would visit and they would call each other, and there weren’t state lines separating them and a river system of self-hatred.

mac just hopes dennis is taking his meds, which he knows he’s not, and that he’s enjoying playing house with mandy. mac would love to raise that kid, and he knows he’s capable of it. he’d teach him all sorts of badass things about movies and fighting and he would say _i love you_ every night so that his son would grow up knowing his father’s love. when mac’s alone in the apartment at night, he thinks about raising brian jr with dennis. he’d paint the nursery blue, kiss dennis between brush strokes. maybe dennis would put a lick of paint on his shoulder, maybe they would kiss until all mac could see was blue.

he'd also name their son something not-stupid like brian jr., he’d name him something more like bruce… it’s a work in progress. he just hopes dennis’s emotions are okay. mac hopes he’s eaten something today. mac hopes he’s still good for dennis. the prayers remain.

in order to fill his time, mac starts exploring his local options for a chance at love, or at least a good, solid, homo bang. dee helps him out with this one, setting him up on blind dates and helping him pick out his outfits for the rainbow, and this is something he knows she can help him with; attracting gay guys has always been a talent of hers.

pretty soon, mac’s got someone who sticks around after they bang, and mac’s fine with it. he’s tall and muscular, a real beefcake; he looks nothing like dennis. they don’t say i love you and sleepovers are rare, but it’s something. mac’s got someone he can call his own for once, and he brings him around the bar one time and the gang just raise their eyebrows and make small talk with beefcake. mac doesn’t feel any sparks when they kiss at the end of the night, but it’s someone to keep him warm on cold days. plus, his hand’s not too rough when he puts it on mac’s scarred cheek.

beefcake doesn’t ask where the scars came from, and mac doesn’t offer.

mac thinks about predator tuesday sometimes and he contemplates answering dennis’s latest text, but he knows dennis doesn’t have the time or the energy to respond anyway, not with a baby being around. it’s just a ploy to get a rise out of mac. he always wanted to see mac left hanging. he’s most likely not eating and’s unstable and mandy’s probably just doing damage control, anyway.

mac uses some of his free time to relearn his love for charlie, and the ways they fit together; they spend more time together again. frank joins sometimes, and it’s cool. dee does her own thing because she’s a bird, but mac doesn’t shoo her off when she does come around.

charlie comes over later in the night and they huff some glue and mac pretends he doesn’t miss the feeling of nails raking down his skin. mac swallows his bile; realizes his sin is not of passion, but of infidelity. he snatches the bag of glue and huffs until he passes out.

it had been… seven, eight months since dennis left. mac stopped fucking caring about the timeline when beefcake got tired of mac’s _moping,_ and how he _didn’t even want to oil me up anymore_ and they stopped banging. mac was now daydrinking every day to the point that he blacked out by one p.m. and didn’t come into work at the bar until seven.

his response in a moment of weakness to dennis has gone unread, and their—mac’s—mac’s apartment has gone unclean. he doesn’t have the energy to tidy up the empty whiskey bottles or the beers or the dirty laundry. other than church—unless he’s going to paddy’s to make money to survive (pay his bills and his alcohol consumption)—mac’s sticking to his couch with the action films he knows by heart and luke-warm beers. it’s mainly thundergun express on repeat, over and over again. it’s background noise to the loud pitter-patter of mac’s heart.

it had been weeks since mac worked out his glamour muscles, and even frank had taken notice. the gang don’t say anything to mac, but they all know how much dennis meant to him, even if they hated each other half the time. it was dee after all that brought their attention to them being an old married couple. fuck, mac misses monthly dinner. mac considers cultivating mass but thinks better of it. not like he has the money to support that process right now.

maybe he could get a doll of dennis.

a few weeks later, mac’s considering moving into a smaller apartment. considers the pain of moving everything, _yet again_ , because his pay really is tight since he doesn’t work as many hours and since he snags more of the bar’s supply now. frank isn’t gonna give him funds when he knows they’ll get flushed down mac’s drain with no cut of his own.

he’s got thundergun express going without really watching it, lost in his own world. his hair is greasy from skipping showers. he hasn’t prayed enough this week, hoping that God will still love him after everything he’s done. he thinks back to the cruise, to his friends. life keeps going on, on, on, without him, and he’s not sure if to follow anymore. nothing matters other than thundergun and downing beers like his life depends on it. that’s all it is anymore, anyway. dennis isn’t coming back, and dennis won’t sink to his knees and kiss mac’s foot with the devotion he deserves, or rub mac’s muscle the way that mac used to do for him. but he can delude himself into thinking dennis will. he can live in a world where dennis and him are fathers; where they love each other; where they won’t hurt each other; where Gods are real and love them both, holiness and sin all together.

his bubble is shattered when the door swings open, a weathered dennis reynolds, complete with a suitcase, stands before him. the bags under his eyes are louder than his voice when he speaks, his voice rusty and cracked. “you know, sometimes i wish people would realize how amazing i am.” a small smile pinches his face.

mac breathes in. breathes out. dennis watches. mac closes his eyes; he’s just a man, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> trigger warnings for: blood, mentions of manipulation/psychological abuse, unsafe sex scenes
> 
> thank you so, so much for reading. I truly loved working on this piece.
> 
> @argylesweater on tumblr
> 
> thank u to my beta, d, love u!!!


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